


Catch-22

by SaraJaye



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Black Eagles Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Black Eagles Sylvain Jose Gautier, Crimson Flower, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Hugs, Late Night Conversations, Love Confessions, Snacks & Snack Food, hard choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: "Fight our friend or run away like cowards, either way we lose. The only choice ishowwe lose."They believed in Lady Edelgard's cause, but that doesn't make the choices ahead any easier.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 41
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2019





	Catch-22

**Author's Note:**

> _Any, any, hearing sounds in the middle of the night_

It wasn't out of the ordinary for her stomach to growl in the middle of the night. By this point the kitchen staff were used to Ingrid or any of the other army's big eaters sneaking into the kitchen for a snack after hours, and as the decisive battle drew nearer it seemed like more and more people were seeking solace in delicious food.

This time, though, it was the sound of footsteps that woke Ingrid before her stomach did. Sad, heavy footsteps pacing the halls for a good few minutes before they grew louder, and finally the knock at her door. Ingrid rubbed the sleep from her eyes and threw a robe on as she answered.

"Hey, Ingrid, sorry to bug you this late." Even in the dark she could make out the mess of red hair and his troubled expression.

"It's okay, Sylvain. I'm surprised anyone can sleep lately, considering..."

"Yeah." He adjusted his haphazardly thrown-on robe. "You hungry?" Ingrid's stomach answered before she could, and Sylvain smiled weakly. "That's what I thought." He offered her his arm, something he'd been doing a lot lately. For the past month, he'd been acting like such a fool around her, tripping over his tongue just to say hi or blushing every time their elbows came within six inches of each other.

She had a feeling of what was going on, but knew that calling him on it would be useless. Especially when they had bigger things to worry about.

So she took his arm and they headed for the kitchen. As she expected, the door was unlocked and so were the pantries and the ice box. The gravy stains on the counter and half a tray of pastries missing told her a few Golden Deer had been in there recently.

"There's plenty of pasta salad left over, some pheasant, some Daphnel stew, sweet buns, saghert and cream..." He shifted here and there to survey the shelves, and Ingrid couldn't help noticing how the muscles in his arms and his back contracted and expanded, even under the fabric of his robe. He wasn't wearing a shirt, she realized as he turned back to her and his robe slipped a bit.

She fought back the blush threatening to heat her cheeks, and cleared her throat.

"Well...I'm not that picky! And neither are you, right?" She shrugged. "Sweet buns? They're less messy than everything else, and I'm kind of in the mood." Sylvain grinned.

"Good. So am I." He took a nearly-full tray of buns from the pantry. "We'd better take it to the dining hall, though, the cooks are gonna have a fit as it is with the gravy and cake crumbs on the table." Ingrid laughed a little.

"Good idea. Plus there's really nowhere to sit in here."

They sat down at the first table they bumped into in the dark, on the same bench as they often did during meals with their professor. They ate in silence for a while, then Sylvain looked up from his plate.

"Do you ever regret staying? You know, siding with the Empire and all?" Ingrid paused mid-bite, her stomach suddenly closing against it, and she set her second bun down with a sigh.

"I can't say, really. Do I believe in Lady Edelgard's cause? Of course, the Crest system's been getting under my skin for years," she said. "I'm tired of feeling guilty for having my own dreams because my family needs _me_ to keep our line going and save our status."

"Exactly," Sylvain said. "Miklan's dead, but he laid the blame for his own problems at my feet since I could walk and even now I can't help but think his ghost's in hell griping about how if only I'd never been born, he'd be the happiest man in the world." He shook his head. "And I know this is a lame excuse, but..."

"Arabella, Moira, that group of girls who held a contest to see who would get to have your first child once they came of age." Ingrid groaned. "I know I give you a hard time, because you _are_ an idiot about women, but they were the worst and I still can't believe your parents wanted to go through with the Moira marriage."

"Just so her family could get a Crest baby." Sylvain glanced at his plate, then at her again. "Honestly, Lady Edelgard's got it right. The church is corrupt, the Crest system is a yoke around our necks, and Faerghus has been clinging to them both for too long. But..."

"But it's all we knew until five years ago, and the kingdom was still our home." Ingrid pushed her plate away, no longer hungry. "And even if Lady Edelgard is right, even if we believe in her cause..."

"Dimitri." Sylvain closed his eyes, and Ingrid nodded, burying her face in her hand.

"He's our _friend._ Even with the rumors going around that he's gone insane with revenge, killing people left and right just for the sake of getting to Lady Edelgard, can we really..."

"Felix seems to think so," Sylvain muttered. "All he can talk about is hunting the wild boar. Must be easy when you lose your ability to-" He stopped. "Sorry."

"No, don't-" Ingrid sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. "That day changed them both for the worse, but it's not like I can't relate."

"But you didn't stop caring about everyone, or become obsessed with revenge." Sylvain put a hand on her shoulder. "You took up Glen's mantle without losing the best part of you," he said. "That's why I-" He drew back, pulling away from her. "I'm getting off subject. How are you going to feel about fighting him?"

"No, what were you about to say?"

"Ingrid, we're about to cross blades with our old friend. Can you bring yourself to do it?" Ingrid sighed. The question haunted her, and now that the battle was coming close she was no closer to a definitive answer than she'd been before.

"Can _you_?"

"I don't know." Sylvain shrugged. "The professor said any Blue Lions could sit this one out if they wanted, and Lady Edelgard's told us from the beginning we could back out at any time."

"Should we, though? Wouldn't that be like running away?"

"Believe me, I've asked myself the same thing." Sylvain drew closer to her again. "Fight our friend or run away like cowards, either way we lose. The only choice is _how_ we lose."

"Unless we tried to talk some sense into him," Ingrid said, and they both laughed bitterly. Dimitri was stubborn as a mule on a good day, with the rumors of him having gone completely mad he'd sooner chop their heads off then listen to reason. Especially if they tried to convince him that Lady Edelgard wasn't the bad guy.

Then again, Dimitri wasn't the bad guy, either, not to them.

"Would he have kept his head if we'd stayed with him, Ingrid? Or is it too late to be asking such questions?" Ingrid sighed.

"It's been too late for the past five years," she said. "And time's running out."

Their gazes met, and suddenly he grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Don't die. If we go out there and face him head on, if we go out there just to fight his soldiers and avoid him, no matter what happens, promise me you won't die, Ingrid." His voice shook slightly. "I don't know when I'll have another chance to say this, but-"

"Sylvain." She laced their fingers together, swallowing. "I know. And...I feel the same. That's not _why_ I've been putting on makeup lately, but you never act so shy around women, and I've known you all my life, and..." She smiled. "What a time to realize it, huh?"

"I shouldn't have put it off so long, but, well...I know myself too well, and I know you, and..." He wrapped his free arm around her, and she leaned into him, her other hand pressed against his half-bared chest. She felt him tense slightly, heard him gasp before he tightened his arm around her.

"Well, it's like they say. Better late than never, right?" she said. "Don't you die either, Sylvain. We both have to live through this." She closed her eyes. "For him."

"Yeah...for Dimitri."

Their stomachs both growled, reminding them that they still had a snack to finish.

"You think we could get away with taking these up to one of our rooms?" he asked, and Ingrid playfully shoved at his shoulder.

"Even if we're just going there to eat, you know we'd get caught. Especially if mice came in to snack on the crumbs the next day!"

"Right, right." He laughed. "Well, there are worse places to fall asleep, I guess."

Thankfully, they didn't fall asleep in the dining hall on those hard benches. But they did end up in her room, on the floor, her leg over his even if he didn't even kiss her that night. If anyone saw him sneaking back to his room the next morning, they didn't say a word.


End file.
